


A Little Treat

by Alys_Brauer



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bofur is a little shit, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Modern Era, Multi, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Brauer/pseuds/Alys_Brauer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Relationships are weird. It doesn’t really matter what kind of relationship it is, they all tend to have their own strange quirks that sometimes require careful navigation – and Bofur has certainly been in enough relationships to know this for a fact. When you have more than one close relationship, that’s when things get really weird, and complicated, and not always bad complicated, it just depends on the people you’re involved with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lindzzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/gifts).



> A little birthday fluff piece for the fabulous lindzzz!

Bofur is in the midst of what has to be the strangest relationship he’s ever been in. It’s a wonderful relationship! Don’t get him wrong. Bilbo Baggins is by far the best partner he has ever had. Small, but feisty, with the most adorable quirks, the deadliest temper, and the sharpest temper he’s ever encountered. It was love at first sight, and everything since has only deepened his feelings for him. That’s not the weird part, the weird part is when you throw in Bofur’s roommate.

It’s pretty much impossible not to notice how attractive Thorin is – and attractive is pretty much the understatement of the century. Bofur certainly couldn’t ignore it, and he knows no one can meet Thorin without being struck by just how fucking stunning he is. He had been forced to come to terms with how unbelievably hot Thorin is months after they’d first moved in as roommates. It had been months of continually trying to get into Thorin’s pants, only to wind up having to face the fact that Thorin wasn’t interested. Oblivious would be the right word really. Thorin was completely oblivious and unresponsive to all his attempts to hit on him.

It’s a shame really. More than a shame truth be told. It was more like a travesty. Nearly the end of his life. That is until he’d met Bilbo.

He’d thought he would be able to move past his little, itty bitty, gigantic crush  on Thorin with his new boyfriend. But that’s when things got a little complicated, in a really good way.

The first time Bilbo had met Thorin, he’d waited politely until Thorin was out of the room and then had turned to Bofur and said quite honestly and openly, and perhaps a little flustered:  “Oh my. Your roommate is _hot_.” Complete with hand fanning and flushed cheeks, and it was too adorable for Bofur to feel threatened at all. Actually, he’d taken it as consent to start comparing notes on Thorin’s muscles, or the way his hair frames his face just so, or his striking blue eyes that _still_ make Bofur’s heart skip a beat.

And if he uses Bilbo’s open appreciation of Thorin’s ridiculous attractiveness to get in a little appreciation of his own well, it just benefits them both – though it is an admittedly unusual.

“Bofur?” The door to the apartment Bofur shares with Thorin opens, and Bilbo comes in carrying a grocery bag on each arm.

“Jesus Bilbo, yeh know yeh don’t have t’ bring food every time yeh come over.” Bofur jumps up from the couch and goes to take the bags from his boyfriend. Honestly. “We do have some food here yeh know. And we can kinda cook.”

“What you do is not cooking,” Bilbo responds tartly with a shake of his head, and a finger. “It’s called reheating, and there is no way I’m living off Hungry Man with the amount I’m over here. Someone has to feed you two properly, or you’re going to die from malnutrition. You can’t honestly expect someone who writes cook books to not interfere in the kitchen. Besides,” Bilbo sniffs, moving past Bofur toward the kitchen. “I did say I would cook tonight.”

“So you bought half the grocery store?” Bofur asks, lifting an eyebrow as he follows Bilbo into the kitchen and places the bags up on the counter.

“Well if I feed you I feel like I have to feed Thorin, at least when we’re here. It wouldn’t be fair to let him live off whatever bread and cold cuts he bought at the store this week.” Bilbo flaps his hand, as if to brush away Bofur’s comment.

“It was his turn t’ shop last week. I shopped this week.”

“My point still stands. Frozen pizza or instant dinners, as I’m sure you’ve already eaten whatever you managed to get off your brother. Honestly, your brother is a chef, you would think you could do a little more than boil water for pasta.”

“We’ll jest say he got all the talent in that area. Now c’mere before yeh start in on all this.” Bofur wraps an arm around Bilbo’s waist and pulls him in close. Bilbo puts on a good show of being irritated, but the smile he sends up at Bofur tells him that Bilbo really doesn’t mind in the slightest. “I haven’t got my kiss from yeh yet,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss Bilbo sweetly.

Their lips slide softly together, and Bofur backs up toward the living room, pulling Bilbo with him.

“Bofur,” Bilbo breaks the kiss, his voice a little breathless. “I have perishables-”

Bofur doesn’t even bother responding, he captures Bilbo’s lips again with a soft hum, slipping his tongue into Bilbo’s mouth with a wet sucking sound. It’s been a week since he’s seen Bilbo, and they can’t be in the kitchen right now. If he has his timing right, the show is just about to start.

Flopping down onto the couch, Bofur drags Bilbo into his lap, not breaking the kiss. He wraps one arm around Bilbo’s waist again and reaches up to cup Bilbo’s cheek as he changes angles, nipping at Bilbo’s bottom lip.

“Dinner-” Bilbo protests half-heartedly, his arms already winding around Bofur’s neck.

“Wait jest a moment,” Bofur whispers with a smirk, kissing Bilbo sweetly. “Shouldn’t be long now.”

“Long?” Bilbo asks, his voice a little dreamy. “What shouldn’t be-?”

“BOFUR!” Thorin’s bellow echoes down the small hallway. Bilbo jumps in Bofur’s lap as the echo of a slamming door follows shortly after Thorin’s voice.

“There we go,” Bofur chuckles, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

“What-?” Bilbo tries again, turning in Bilbo’s lap to look down the hallway. “Oh- Oh my.”

Wet, hair in complete disarray, and dressed only in a towel around his waist, Thorin comes storming into the living room. “When are you going to admit that you are no longer in a college fraternity?” Thorin demands.

Clearly he hasn’t noticed Bilbo yet, or least hasn’t processed it.

“What is the point of-” Suddenly Thorin’s eyes go wide, and red floods his cheeks.

There it is. He’s noticed.

Bofur smirks, leaning his head back to get a better view of Thorin in all his wet glory. He hadn’t even tried to dry off, which is even better than what Bofur had been hoping for. Hair lays slick against Thorin’s chest, perfectly showing off the beautiful planes of his muscles. Bofur isn’t going to lie, he has definitely imagined running his hands over that more than once. It’s like it’s just begging to be caressed. It is a shame that Thorin grabbed a towel, the best bits are completely covered.

“Bilbo!” Thorin’s voice cracks, and he stands completely frozen in place. “I did not realize- When did you get- You are here.”

“Oh. Oh don’t mind me,” Bilbo says airily. Bofur can see his eyes travelling the same route his own had taken, a light shade of pink rising to his cheeks.

“I am sorry. Bofur…he…” Thorin’s eyes snap back to Bofur, and Bofur grins oh so innocently up at him. “You stole my clothes.”

“Did I?” Bofur asks, acting for all the world like this is the biggest shock in his life. “You do realize that you have an entire room of them, much closer than the living room was.”

Thorin’s cheeks turn even redder. He growls something that Bofur is probably glad that he can’t quite hear properly, then turns on his heel and stalks back down the hall.

“Do you do that often?” Bilbo breaks the silence with the half breathless question; though when he turns back to Bofur, a frown creases his brow.

Bofur tilts his head to press a kiss to the furrow, and then again to kiss Bilbo once more. “No,” he grins. “Thorin jest got home, and I knew yeh were comin over. The timin worked out quite well I think.” He chuckles, quite pleased with himself.

“Oh. Oh. So that’s why you- There is no need to torture him you know.”

Bofur shrugs. “I figured we deserved a treat, it’s been a long week. Besides, as soon as you feed him he’ll forgive you.”

“Well,” Bilbo sniffs, unwinding his arms from Bofur’s neck and pushing himself off Bofur’s lap. “I can’t say I approve but-” Bilbo’s cheeks redden again and he shoots another look down the hall. “That is _quite_ a treat. He really is too handsome for his own good.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it was supposed to be a one shot. But this is how I imagined it fitting into the timeline so I couldn't resist. Unplanned for chapter 2!

True to Bofur’s prediction, once Bilbo had finished dinner and fed them both – after reassuring Thorin once again that they really didn’t mind him joining them for dinner when it was Bilbo invading their home – Thorin settles in the living room, idly flicking through channels.

“C’mere love,” Bofur hums, tugging Bilbo against him as Bilbo makes his way toward the couch.

“Would you stop manhandling me?” Bilbo demand. He slaps Bofur on the arm, though he makes no real effort to escape Bofur’s hold.

“Sorry, not sorry.” Bofur grins impishly, leaning down to steal a kiss. Once again he flops down on the couch, pulling Bilbo onto his lap. Bilbo grumbles in mock protest, wrapping his arms around Bofur’s neck to keep himself from tumbling to the floor. Using the distraction to his advantage, Bofur captures Bilbo’s lips again, his tongue lightly caressing Bilbo’s lips, encouraging Bilbo to open them.

Instead of responding, Bilbo turns his head away, his cheeks faintly pink. “Bofur would you stop it. We’re making Thorin uncomfortable.”

Bofur tilts his head so he can see past Bilbo. Thorin’s sitting, stiff as a board, arms crossed over his chest, very obviously looking everywhere except at them. Bofur smirks. “Nah love. I think he likes the view.”

A very light blush rises to Thorin’s cheeks, and he mutters something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that Thorin?” Bofur can’t help but tease.

All he gets for his trouble is another smack from Bilbo. “Would you stop it already? And put me down! You’re supposed to be making it up to Thorin, not antagonizing him.”

“Oh fine, have it yehr way then,” Bofur sighs and rolls his eyes.  Wrapping his arms around Bilbo’s waist, he pushes himself up and holds onto his boyfriend just long enough to turn and dump him unceremoniously into Thorin’s lap. “Here, yeh hold that fehr a moment Thorin, I’ll go get the popcorn.”

He sticks around only long enough to appreciate Bilbo’s startled squawk, and Thorin’s sudden flailing arms, before running to the safety of the kitchen.

Bilbo babbles apologies to Thorin, and there’s some kind of response that Bofur can’t quite make out as he takes the popcorn out of the microwave and dumps it into a big bowl. Some might think it strange to be having movie night with both his boyfriend and roommate, but Bofur’s just come to accept that it’s just another odd thing in a whole series of unusual quirks in his relationship with Bilbo and his friendship with Thorin. Honestly, he’s just as comfortable watching a movie with either, or both, of them, so he sees no reason to prevent Thorin from using his own living room.

Bofur walks back into the living room to find that amidst all the apologizing and grumbling, Bilbo and Thorin have decided on a movie, and have taken up their usual corners of the couch, which means…Bofur places the full bowl of popcorn on the side table next to Bilbo and throws himself down on the couch, his head in Bilbo’s lap, his feet in Thorin’s. “So what’re we watchin?” he asks, shifting to make himself comfortable, and pretending not to notice as Thorin pulls his arms up and crosses them over his chest again in his really very impressive imitation of a board.

“Well, we thought it would be nice to give Pacific Rim a rewatch, since they’ve just announced a second one coming out,” Bilbo says easily, his hand flopping familiarly onto Bofur’s head to move in idle petting strokes through his hair.

Thorin makes a sound in the back of his throat that could vaguely be considered agreement.

Bofur just shrugs and shifts so he can nuzzle his head into Bilbo’s lap more. “Sounds good t’ me.”

Bilbo starts the movie, and, in true movie night fashion, about half way through, Thorin’s head starts nodding.

“Right on schedule,” Bofur chuckles, turning his head to look up at Bilbo. “Can we snog now?” he asks hopefully.

Oh no. Bofur sighs inwardly as Bilbo stares at him, his eyebrows lifting. That’s a sure fire sign right there that he’s about to get a lecture. He’d much rather be snogging. Maybe if he’s fast enough he can distract Bilbo-

“Umpf.” Before Bofur can push himself up, there’s a sudden addition of two hundred pounds on top of him. “Thorin wha-?” Bofur tries to turn, to push Thorin off, but just as suddenly as Thorin had crashed onto him, there are two very muscular arms wrapping around him, pinning his arms to his side, as Thorin _latches_ onto him as well.

It takes a minute for Bofur to completely process what’s just happened to him. “Look Bilbo, I got us a pet koala,” he says, half joking, half exasperated. As much as he’d once dreamed of having these very arms wrapped around him like this, it was much more comfortable in his dreams, and had never involved him having his head in another man’s lap. His boyfriend’s lap for that matter.

“You do realize you’re stuck now?”

Bofur can hear the arched eye brow in Bilbo’s voice, even before he manages to squirm around enough to be able to tilt his head back so he can see Bilbo’s, surprisingly, amused face. Well, more amused than Bofur had thought it would be. More affectionate really, despite his wry tone.

“And now _I_ have two of you overbuilt buffoons on me and can’t feel my legs…”

“I can!” Bofur says helpfully, ignoring the sharp look that Bilbo shoots at him. “Keepin my head nice and pillowed they are.” He tries to shift again, and only manages to make Thorin stir and mutter in his sleep, nuzzling into Bofur’s shoulder.

Bilbo snorts and flicks Bofur’s forehead. “How’s it feel to be crushed by about 200 pounds of hairy muscle?” he asks.

“Well-” Bofur pauses, actually giving it some thought. Now that the initial surprise has worn off, it’s actually…nice. Very nice truth be told. Thorin is very solid, and very warm. The nuzzling is a surprise again, but still a nice surprise, and Thorin’s arms are just as comfortable to be wrapped up in as he’d once imagined. “Not bad actually. No not bad at all. More nice. Very warm. Very firm. Hey Bilbo, can we keep the koala?”

The hand on his head starts to move again, petting Bofur slowly. “That…” Bilbo’s voice is soft, controlled and careful when he speaks. “That…could be an option…” Bilbo frowns a little. No, that’s not his frown. Bofur recognizes that look. The little furrow between his brows that Bofur always wants to stroke when it appears. The slight tightening of his mouth as his head tilts- Bilbo is thinking. Thinking very seriously about something.

If Bofur wasn’t currently cocooned by Thorin, he would have perked up at that. “Oh?” he asks. “Tell me more.”

Okay, perhaps he could have been a little more serious, given Bilbo’s face right now, but his interest isn’t feigned.

“Well it’s…it’d only be if everyone is all right with…” Bilbo’s hands start to flutter as they move through Bofur’s hair. Jiggling a little. And that look, the slight shadow in Bilbo’s eyes and the pink tinge- He hasn’t seen that look since they first date when they’d both been a little awkward and Bilbo had been almost painfully shy. “Well have you um…noticed how he looks at us?”

“Well I’ve noticed he’s no longer shootin daggers at yeh. He’s seemed t’ warm up to yeh since yehr little adventure at the Barrow Downs,” Bofur snorts.

“That’s not what I meant-” Bilbo starts to snap.

“Oh. Did yeh mean the fact that he’s been more grouchy than usual? I mean, more than usual after he warmed up to yeh. He’s about the same level of grouchy as when we first started datin. Which is strange now that yeh mention it. I’d thought things were goin’ much better than before. I mean we hang out the three of us all the time.” Thorin is still nuzzling at his shoulder, and it’s making it kind of difficult to think straight if Bofur’s being honest.

Bilbo sighs in exasperation, and presses a finger to Bofur’s lips to stop his babbling. He has that: “You’re an idiot” look in his eyes that’s somewhere between fondness and frustration. “No love. He always looks…I don’t know sad almost? Always blushing or nervous it seems. Stammers more too. You know. Like someone with a crush.”

What? Bofur freezes, his body going stiff, torn between laughter and confusion. His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to make sense of the bomb that Bilbo’s just dropped. A crush? Thorin? Thorin had a crush? How had Bilbo even noticed that? He’s been the man’s roommate and friend for years and he’s _never_ seen Thorin acting like he has a crush on anyone! Let alone either of them. “He-wait- You what?” he stammers out. “This idiot? The one collapsed on top of me right now? Has a crush? On who?” Bofur’s voice steadily rises in both volume and pitch.

Quickly, Bilbo shushes him, shooting a significant glance toward the previously mentioned lump still clinging to Bofur. “Both? I think?” he says hurriedly, cutting through Bofur’s near hysteric babbling. “I thought it was just you for the longest time. He would get this smile when you weren’t looking…”

This is ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous. Bofur feels the hysterical laughter bubbling just under the surface. “Me? Yeh think-?” Months! Months he’d tried to catch Thorin’s eyes. Months he’d tried to get himself into Thorin’s bed. And nothing.  All his attempts had ended in nothing but Thorin’s continued , apparently oblivious, disinterest. How could Thorin _possibly_  have a crush on Bofur? There was no way! That tree had fallen ages ago.

“I mean I thought it was just you! Then I turned around and caught him giving me the same look! And then I- Well I didn’t know how you would…react…”

Maybe that tree hadn’t been completely uprooted though. If it was possible… “Well I’d be  lying if I said I wasn’t attracted t’ Thorin.”  Though they were friends now, that initial physical attraction hadn’t faded, if anything, he was more attracted to Thorin now that they were friends… Fuck this was giving him a headache. “When were yeh goin’ t’ tell me yehr suspicions love? We could have set him at ease much sooner.” That is…if Bilbo’s mind is going where Bofur _thinks_ it’s going. “I mean, I’m guessin yeh’re sayin’ yeh’re interested too? That yeh like him like yeh like me?”

Bilbo’s fingers started to tap in agitation. They move to the remote, then to the popcorn bowl. Bilbo gets increasingly flustered and fidgety, and seems to want to look everywhere except at the two men in his lap. “I don’t know…I’ve thought…Well I’ve thought about it a few times. I mean look at him!”

Well, at that Bofur can’t help but chuckle. “The fact that he looks like a model? Or that he’s clingin’ t’ me like a kitten?”

“I…” Bilbo hesitates, and finally looks down at Bofur again, confused and torn. “..both? Look this is only- we can forget about it if you’d rather. And I don’t think he’s the sort to like being an experimental thing…”

Somehow, he manages to free his arm from Thorin’s grasp, and drapes it lightly over Thorin’s shoulder as the unconscious man nuzzles closer against Bofur’s chest now.  Bofur raises his eyes to Bilbo’s. “But Bilbo! Yeah said I could keep him!” Bofur’s lower lip trembles and he makes his eyes go round in the most ridiculous puppy dog face he can manage. But his eyes are serious. Now that he’s thinking about it. Properly thinking about it, and not just as an either-or type of situation; both, both Thorin and Bilbo. He can see it. He can properly see it and he doesn’t mind the thought at all.

Especially not with Thorin nuzzling against him and Bilbo’s lap as his pillow.

Bilbo squints down at Bofur, his eyes narrowing – his usual way of warning Bofur that he’d best be serious about this and not trying to pull Bilbo’s leg. “So,” Bilbo says seriously. “If he wakes up and I just went and snogged him, and then snogged you…you would be all right with that?”

There’s no hesitation. Bilbo’s put the idea in his head, and he’s accepted it with his normal attitude of all or nothing. He’s all in. As long as Bilbo and Thorin are. “I don’t think yeh’d get t’ the snoggin’ me part. Thorin might punch yeh in the face from surprise.”

There’s a nod, and Bofur recognizes that look. It’s the look that Bilbo gets when he’s made a decision. It means that shit it about to happen because Bilbo’s made up his mind about something there’s no point in waiting to do it now. Bilbo leans down and nudges Thorin, shaking his shoulder. “Thorin, get up.”

A grouchy grumble emerges from the vicinity of Bofur’s chest as Thorin shifts, and then tenses. He stays frozen, like he’s trying to play dead or something. Hoping that they won’t realize he’s awake.

“Oi,” Bofur tries to sit up again. Poking at Thorin’s head with his free hand, Bofur falls in with Bilbo’s plan, as he always seems to end up doing. Not that he ever minds the outcomes though. “Are yeh goin’ t’ sleep on me all night? I think yeh’re startin’ t’ drool. There are more comfortable ways t’ do this yeh know.”

Apparently having decided that there’s no point in playing dead anymore, Thorin shoots up, his face beet red. “I am sorry,” he says stiffly. “I- I did not mean to- It was a long day is all and-” Thorin breaks off with a strangled wheeze as Bilbo leans over Bofur and takes Thorin’s face in both his hands.

“Thorin.” Bilbo’s face is set in a serious mask. His eyes are intense, and his voice has just a hint of plea in it. “Don’t punch me.” Without any further warning, Bilbo leans the rest of the way over Bofur, and kisses Thorin full on the mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last chapter of this particular fic! I have lots of headcanons and material for this verse, so there may be more modern Boffinshield shenanigans in the future. Thanks for reading!

Bofur had known this was coming. It had been obvious in the set of Bilbo’s mouth, the way he tilted his head, that slight twitch of his nose, and most telling, that light in his eyes. Bofur hadn’t been dating Bilbo for so long without being able to pick up on when his usually predictable boyfriend was about to do something entirely unpredictable.

Like kiss Bofur’s roommate out of the blue.

Thorin’s eyes widen when Bilbo’s lips cover his, and then they close slowly.

To be quite frank, Bofur has no fucking idea how to feel about this situation. He’d had about half a second to realize that Bilbo was actually going to do this and now-

The hand that Thorin still has resting on Bofur fists in his shirt, the grip clearly desperate as Thorin makes a confused, almost pained sound, low in the back of his throat.

Carefully, not wanting to spook Thorin now that Bilbo’s apparently decided that they’re going to do this _now_ without any further discussion, Bofur lays his hand gently over Thorin’s and gives a light squeeze.

Bilbo tilts his head, his lips sliding over Thorin’s with hardly a sound, and Thorin’s eyes close. Another desperate sound comes from him, but Bilbo doesn’t move away.

He doesn’t move closer either.

Bofur takes full advantage. He leans in as close as he can, his hand still resting lightly over Thorin’s. “It’s okay,” he says softly, encouragingly. “Jest so long as yeh _don’t_ punch him. I like his pretty face intact, and yehrs too fehr that matter.” Despite the situation, Bofur can’t help but tease. He does it on purpose actually, trying to diffuse the tenseness in the air that seems likely to choke them all if something’s not done about it.

With another half strangled sound, Thorin jerks away from Bilbo. His hand is still fisted in Bofur’s shirt, and the sudden movement drags Bofur forward as well.

Not all together a bad place to be in if he’s being honest.

Bilbo is frowning a little bit, looking more than a tad put out that his kisses have suddenly been interrupted.

“What-?” Thorin’s voice is rough as he croaks out the half question. He’s dazed, his eyes wide, mouth open a little and he stares straight at Bilbo and Bofur, not quite seeming to see them properly. “What…just happened?”

Bofur smirks. This he can cover. “It’s called a kiss,” he says amused. Now that he’s had a moment, he finds that he really hadn’t minded the sight of Bilbo kissing Thorin. The knowledge that it had happened, that he’d watched it happen in front of him, isn’t heavy or uncomfortable at all – as he’d half thought it might be. No, the only thing that sits on Bofur now, is that here’s Thorin, still half in his lap, clutching wildly onto him with a dazed look, a flush to his cheeks, and his mouth open, fairly inviting Bofur to close the little space that’s still between them.  “Have yeh never been kissed before? It’s quite pleasant yeh know,” Bofur continues, acting on his impulse and closing that little, tiny bit of distance that still remains. “Let me show yeh.”

It’s his turn now.

Before Thorin can pull back further, or fall off the couch, Bofur cups Thorin’s cheek with a hand. He moves slowly, giving Thorin the chance to pull back if he really wants to. Thorin doesn’t move, Bofur meets his eyes, ignoring the way Thorin’s jaw tenses under his hand. Not breaking eye contact, Bofur tilts his head, and presses his lips to Thorin’s.

At first Thorin doesn’t respond. His eyes remain wide and opened, his body and jaw remain tensed. There’s a brief spark of panic that makes Bofur’s heart pound loudly.

Had Bilbo been wrong about Thorin’s crush? They hadn’t really given him much time to respond. What if he doesn’t want this at all? What if they’ve made a big mistake and he’s ruined his friendship with Thorin because Bilbo had thought he’d seen something that wasn’t there and -

All at once Thorin’s eyes close, and he leans in with a little sound, almost like a whimper. The hand in Bofur’s shirt twitches, almost relaxing before it grips tight again, holding Bofur tightly.

Bofur’s eyes slide close and he takes advantage of Thorin’s still slightly opened mouth. He runs a tongue lightly over the slightly chapped skin of Thorin’s lips, and suppresses the groan that rises in his chest. He draws it out, sliding his lips against Thorin’s, his tongue licking slowly into his roommate’s mouth. He’s determined to get everything he can out of this first, and possibly last, kiss. Bofur keeps it going, skimming his tongue against Thorin’s. He does give into a groan when Thorin responds, practically melting into Bofur as he kisses back.

It’s amazing, and so different than kissing Bilbo, and just as good. Bofur draws it out until his heart is pounding and his lungs are screaming for air. Just when he thinks he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen, he breaks the kiss with a wet pant, keeping his hand on Thorin’s cheek. He lifts his head and bumps his forehead lightly against Thorin’s, then lets it rest there. “That-” he says breathlessly. “Is a kiss.” He takes a moment to remember how to breathe properly. “Yeh all right?”

The warm, soft body against him suddenly tenses again. There’s a look in Thorin’s eyes, it lasts only a fraction of a moment as they dart between Bofur and Bilbo and back again. It’s soft and amazed, with just a hint of hope-

And it disappears just as quickly as it had appeared. Bofur almost thinks he imagined it, but Thorin is still gripping his shirt. That’s gotta be a good sign. That desperate hold hints at more than the blank, hard expression Thorin’s giving them now.

Thorin leans back quickly and his expression darkens. His eyebrows come together and he leans as far away from Bofur as he can without actually releasing his shirt. “I am not some experiment to spice things up,” he growls.

Bofur swears he can see hackles rising.

Bilbo snorts, and Thorin practically flinches, turning his glower onto the small man alone. “We knew that,” Bilbo says simply. “And you can stop growling at me Thorin.”

Honestly. He lives with Thorin. Bilbo’s over here every other weekend. Does Thorin _really_ think that his and Bilbo’s relationship needs spicing up? The notion is ridiculous really. They can hardly keep their hands off each other. Bilbo’s just as guilty of that as Bofur, though Bofur does show it in public more.

Really, Thorin’s just being dense and his usual broody self.

‘Spice things up’ indeed!

“Bilbo here was jest sayin’ that yeh wouldn’t take kindly t’ experiments,” Bofur pipes in. He lets his hand drop down, seeking out Bilbo’s on the couch to squeeze. “I quite agree yeh know. I was never one fehr experiments myself. Seems like too much work. And if we were t’ do a proper experiment, we’d have t’ have trial periods with other subjects and- Well, jest seems like too much of a hassle t’ me, not t’ mention that I don’t really want t’ kiss anyone else ‘cept yeh and Bilbo. Now, are yeh done bein a broody twat?” Bofur leans in closer again, a mischievous smirk dancing across his slightly kiss swollen lips. “I’d rather like t’ kiss yeh again. Bilbo? Would yeh like another taste too?”

There’s a sigh by his ear, and Bilbo squeezes his hand hard enough to make Bofur wince.

Leaning over Bofur again, Bilbo’s hand slides up to cup Thorin’s cheek, renewing the gentle touch that Thorin had broken with Bofur when they’d had to pause for breath.

Bofur leans back, letting Bilbo handle this now. Bilbo’s the serious one, and Bofur doesn’t really want to ruin this because unable to resist cracking a joke.

“We were talking about asking you to…to join us,” Bilbo says carefully, his eyes locked with Thorin’s.

Bofur watches as Thorin’s eyes soften again. The defensiveness melts away under Bilbo’s light touch, and it’s replaced by nervous uncertainty.

“That is if, well, if you want to really. Not as a onetime thing mind. Not unless that’s all you-”

Thorin swallows hard, still looking as though he’s trying to decide between being terrified or hopeful, and kisses Bilbo softly.

Now this is a side of Thorin that he’s never seen before. Though Thorin initiated the kiss, he becomes pliant, responding to Bilbo’s movements. His lips part, only after Bilbo’s do first, and he can’t seem to decide just what to do with his hands.

Bofur can help with that.

He carefully eases his shirt out of Thorin’s still desperate grip, and releases Bilbo’s hand as well so he can shift himself back and to the side. It gives Bilbo room to wriggle between Thorin and Bofur, so he’s more in Bofur’s lap and Thorin is properly on his side of the couch again. Thorin’s hand flails for a moment, then comes down to rest naturally on the curve of Bilbo’s hip.

Bilbo moves slowly. He carefully changes angles, allowing only enough time for snatches of breath when he tilts his head to find a new one. Their lips slot together, sliding wetly as Bilbo clearly tries to sort out the best way to kiss Thorin thoroughly without Thorin’s nose getting in the way of his efforts.

Surprisingly, Bofur is okay with watching this. Watching as Thorin becomes softer, less desperate and tense. Bilbo seems to be quite intent on kissing away every fear and doubt that might possibly rise in Thorin’s way too active mind.

The man does have a _slight_ tendency to overthink pretty much everything.

There’s a tug on his sleeve, and Bofur flicks his attention to Bilbo – who is still very slowly, and very thoroughly, kissing Thorin. Bilbo tugs again, dragging Bofur’s shirt toward Thorin’s side of the couch.

For a moment Bofur is confused, but then Bilbo opens his eyes and tilts his head indicating quite clearly – or as clearly as one can when their lips are engaged in a good snogging – that Bofur should get on the other side of Thorin.

Well that’s easier said than done. He currently has Bilbo on his lap, and Thorin hasn’t completely stopped leaning against him…and he really doesn’t want to interrupt the moment. There’s the distinct possibility that Thorin will bolt if they give him a chance to start thinking properly again.

Bilbo tugs again, harder this time, his brows furrowing in peevish impatience.

Bofur sighs, and works on squirming out from under the pile of very attractive men that he finds himself at the bottom of. Normally this wouldn’t be any sort of problem, but couches are extremely hard to maneuver on.

This would all be so much easier if they’d had the good sense to start all this in a bed, any bed, there’s two of them in the apartment and Bilbo must have a half dozen at least at Bag End.

Somehow Bofur manages to extract himself without completely ruining the mood. Though Thorin does make another sound in the back of his throat and grab for him. Bofur smiles softly and eases Thorin’s hand off him once more, and guides it back toward Bilbo, who’s pulling Thorin more firmly toward him now. “Give a lad a moment Thorin,” he chuckles, finally sliding off the couch long enough to move around the tangle of his boyfriend and roommate.

“C’mere,” Bilbo pants softly. He wriggles backward so he’s sitting properly again, though he’s tilted toward Thorin, one leg bent and up on the couch. Thorin half crawls toward Bilbo, and that’s all that Bofur needs.

He slips into the open space on Thorin’s free side. Kneeling behind Thorin, Bofur presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck, and wraps an arm loosely around his waist. “We’ve got yeh,” he hums softly, tugging lightly so Thorin’s half sitting in his lap, and half leaning into Bilbo’s touch.

Bilbo smiles at Bofur over Thorin’s shoulder and nods. “Oh yes, there’s no hope for you now. We won’t be letting go.”

There’s a shaky exhale from Thorin, and his head falls forward and he reaches awkwardly back to grasp at Bofur again, fisting a hand in Bilbo’s shirt as well. Thorin rests his forehead on Bilbo’s shoulder, nuzzling against his collar bone.

Humming softly, Bilbo wraps his arms around Thorin – though really it’s more like Bilbo wraps his arms around Thorin’s _head_ – and gently strokes the wild tangle of black hair.

Bofur takes advantage of the shift and presses himself against Thorin’s back, moving his arms up to wrap around Thorin’s middle, and nuzzles his nose against the exposed skin of Thorin’s neck. He presses slow, tender kisses to Thorin’s skin, relaxing into the warmth of the moment.

By this point the movie has been completely forgotten. Thorin is just like the koala Bofur had jokingly named him, clinging desperately to both Bofur and Bilbo, twisting in the awkward cuddle pile so he can get as much of them both in his arms as humanly possible given the rather tight space they’re all currently occupying.

A bed really would have been a much smarter choice for this.

Thorin’s eyes close with a sigh, and melts into the both of them. He slumps down so his head is pressed into Bilbo’s stomach, and his legs are curled around Bofur. One arm winds around Bilbo’s waist, the other remains clenched in Bofur’s shirt. It’s no more than a moment, but as soon as Thorin has settled, his breathing evens out and he drops right back to sleep.

How the fuck did he manage to do that so quickly?

Letting out a soft whistle, Bofur looks down at Thorin, then lifts his eyes to Bilbo. “Well,” he says softly.

Bilbo only nods, meeting Bofur’s eyes, and Bofur can see everything he’d been thinking reflected in them. They may have underestimated the strength of Thorin’s crush. Not only that, but the strength of Thorin’s reaction to some snogging and awkward cuddling – Thorin has clearly been lacking in positive touch in his life. Which is ridiculous really. The man is a literal teddy bear. Who wouldn’t want to cuddle him?

Bofur lifts an eyebrow, and Bilbo nods. Holy shit Thorin _is_ affection deprived! And they’d somehow completely missed it – probably because Thorin had actively been trying to hide it to be honest.

“Well,” Bofur says softly, leaning back slowly, careful not to wake Thorin again. He rests a hand lightly on Thorin’s head, lightly stroking his hair. “Looks like we’re stuck on the couch t’night.”

Bilbo’s turned his eyes down to Thorin again, a soft, warm smile spreading as he watches Thorin sleep. “And,” he says softly, a tender note entering his voice. “I think we have to keep the koala now.”

“I was hopin’ yeh’d say that,” Bofur admits. With one eye on Thorin, he stretches and leans over to pull Bilbo into a quick, soft kiss. Thorin doesn’t even stir, completely out cold - and that’s a talent to be envied, Bofur wishes he knew how to do that. Resuming his gentle petting, Bofur chuckles softly. “He’d probably be lost without us if yeh think about it. And I mean, it’s not like yeh can’t afford both of us.”

Bilbo starts snickering to himself, just shaking his head at Bofur - it’s an ongoing joke that Bilbo is Bofur’s sugar daddy. “Why do I feel like we just adopted some ragged shelter dog?”

“Shhh! Don’t let him hear yeh say that! He might get offended. He’s a pure bred if anything’.” Bofur grins and meets Bilbo’s eyes once more, then breaks into laughter himself.

Looks like his relationships are just going to keep getting more complicated in the best way possible.


End file.
